The Assassin
by MerlinEmrys22
Summary: Merlin's past isn't what Arthur thought it was.
1. Prologue

_Five years earlier_

Merlin looked down at the man, emotionless.

"You've paid the ultimate price now," he spat. "Perhaps your little friends will think twice before doing something stupid again."

The man's voice was barely above a whisper, as the magical force still inside him slowly drained his life. "Please.. Emrys.."

Merlin raised his eyebrows at that. "Only the Druids know me by that name."

"I am a Druid..." the man said, rolling up his sleeve to expose the triskelion on his arm. "I was forced to leave it behind, to pay my debts to these men. I was sucked into their plans, I never meant to hurt anyone..."

Merlin frowned. "Yet you still attempted to take King Cenred's life."

"To save my daughter. Rosemary would have been killed if I hadn't, she needs to live..."

Merlin started to sense that this man, Druid, father, wasn't as bad as he'd thought. Perhaps he really was innocent, to him. Not to King Cenred.

"I'm sorry." he said to the Druid, kneeling next to him in his dark cloak. "Truly, I am."

The man attempted a smile. "Be good, Emrys... You must fulfil your prophecy." His eyes slowly closed, and he took his last breath. Merlin stood up, ashamed. This was the last time he killed for King Cenred.


	2. The Forest

Merlin sighed, cleaning Arthur's chambers again in the early morning of a summer's day. The King himself sat at his desk, struggling to write a speech. Finally, he cracked, giving up.

"I think we should go hunting this afternoon," Arthur said, to Merlin's dismay.

"Today? Really?"

"Yes Merlin. Today."

The dark-haired servant groaned. Hunting meant riding and weapons, and that meant more work, as well as killing things.

"Do we have to?"

"Yes. Go and ready the horses."

Merlin sighed. "As you wish."

He headed down to the stables, finding the stableboy, Tyr Seward, and asking him to prepare Arthur's horse as he prepared his own. After a few minutes, both horses were ready, and Merlin went to find Arthur's various hunting weapons.

They set off half an hour later, Arthur waving to various citizens as they passed. The forest was shaded and cool as usual as they rode down the pathway.

Their hunting trip was mostly uneventful, a few rabbits unfortunately wandering into their path. As they headed back to Camelot in the late afternoon, Arthur quietened.

"What was that?"

Merlin had heard it too. It sounded like people.

They tried to ride faster, but it was too late. Bandits jumped out from the bushes, ambushing the pair as they rode.

Arthur jumped off his horse and into the action immediately, fighting the bandits with Excalibur. Merlin fought a few off with a blunted sword he'd packed in case something like this happened.

Finally, they defeated the group of bandits. They mounted their horses again, before a voice sounded out behind them.

"Emrys."

Merlin shivered, knowing this couldn't mean anything good. He turned round in his saddle, to be faced with someone he knew he'd seen before but couldn't place. Then he saw what the man was wearing.

A dark cloak, with a red insignia on the chest. A curved blade at his hip, and dark gloves. One of Cenred's assassins.

Merlin frowned. Why was this man here? He thought he'd left this past where it belonged, in the darkest corner of his mind.

"You are needed." the man said simply. Merlin felt himself shudder.

"I'm not going back there." he said. "Never."

Arthur had been quiet until now, but now he spoke. "Merlin, what's going on?"

The assassin didn't let Merlin finish, simply letting his eyes glow gold, causing the King and his servant to fall unconscious, falling from their horses onto the hard ground.


	3. Jail

Dirt. Dust. Straw. Mud.

Merlin rubbed his eyes as he sat up, disoriented. Where was he? This must be a jail cell, judging by the bars, but it didn't look like Camelot's dungeons.

Then it all came flooding back. The hunting trip, the bandits, the assassin, being knocked out-

He sighed, looking around the cell. Arthur was still asleep, lying sprawled across the straw. They must be in the jails in Cenred's kingdom.

There was a noise outside, and another black-cloaked man appeared.

"Emrys," he said, voice deep and gravelly. "Nice to see you again."

This time, Merlin remembered them. "Ciarid."

Ciarid smiled, though it looked more like a grimace. "You've decided to grace us with your presence again, have you? Took us five long years to find you again."

Merlin gritted his teeth. "I have no plans of returning to your brigand. I'm not a killer anymore."

Ciarid laughed menacingly. "That's what they all say, Emrys. You'll see." He left, dark cloak sweeping behind him, leaving Merlin angry and confused in the cell next to Arthur.

Why did they want him back? Once they'd realised he had magic, he'd become a valuable weapon, but he'd made it clear to his comrades that he was leaving and never returning. Why had they suddenly gone after him again?

He waited patiently for Arthur to wake up, before trying to frantically explain.

"Arthur, we're in Cenred's kingdom, these men are assassins-"

"How do you know this?" the King of Camelot asked. Merlin struggled between two options for a moment. Should he tell Arthur about his magic, or pretend he'd only just found out?

"I just heard them talking about it outside." he said, regretting every word of the lie. Arthur seemed to buy it, but still looked confused.

"Why do they call you Emrys?"

Merlin shrugged. "Maybe.. maybe they confused me for someone else."

Arthur frowned, but said nothing more. The two of them sat in silence for a long time, thinking of Camelot and home and warmth, instead of being stuck in a cold, damp dungeon.


	4. Emrys

"Emrys is back," Merlin heard a guard whisper an hour later. He was sick of everyone talking about him, and just wanted to go home now.

Arthur, meanwhile, was still confused.

"Who's Emrys?" he asked for the fifth time. Merlin scowled.

"I don't know, Arthur! Okay?"

"Alright..."

They sat in stony silence for a little while longer.

"Merlin?"

"What?"

"If I was quiet, I could stab that guard and grab the keys to the cell-" Arthur groped for his sword. Merlin scowled again.

"No use, he's too far away now."

Arthur pouted, looking like a toddler who hadn't got what they wanted, and they continued to sit in silence. Another black-cloaked man appeared, grinning at Merlin and Arthur.

"Well, well, well." he said, brandishing a chain with spikes on the end in front of them. "We're going to have some fun, until you give us what we need."

They took Arthur first. Merlin sat pressed up against the bars, despairing, as he heard Arthur whimper in the cell next to him.

"I don't know what you want!" the king howled. "Let me go!"

He was thrown forcibly back into his and Merlin's cell an hour later, bruised and bloody. Thin streaks of blood trickled down his back, his shirt torn.

Merlin did his best to try to stop the blood, but it wasn't long before they dragged him out. He was thrown inside the blood-spattered cell, with a black-cloaked man following him in.

"Tell me." the man said, as Merlin stood up. "Who is Emrys?"

The young warlock fixed him with a cold glare. Arthur would hear, but maybe the king could be released if he gave them what they wanted.

"I am."


	5. Molten Gold

Arthur frowned, leaning against the wall of the cell. Merlin was Emrys? The guards had spoken of this Emrys as being a powerful assassin, an old member of their ranks. But Merlin had always been a simple farm boy...hadn't he?

Merlin narrowed his eyes at the assassin staring at him. "Happy now? You've got me back. Now let the King go."

The assassin frowned. "Doesn't he know you're Emrys?"

"He does now. Let. Him. Go."

"We can't do that. Not yet."

"Why not? I could expose your little...organization in an instant. Let the other kingdoms know what's really been attacking their people. Do you want that?"

"Do you think we're afraid, Emrys? Do you think we can't fight back?"

Merlin's eyes flashed gold, and the guard was thrown backwards with a thump. He left him there, opening the cell door to face Arthur.

"I'm sorry, Arthur." he said to the bewildered king, as his eyes began to fade from molten gold to periwinkle blue. He had no reply, simply a confused stare from the king.

"You lied to me all this time?"


	6. Trust

Merlin simply gazed at the king, with a sad, lost look in his eyes. Arthur edged away from him, slightly worried, but that just made Merlin look more upset.

"Please, Arthur, magic can be used for good-"

"You killed with magic." the king said. "How do I know you're not just waiting to move on Camelot?"

"Please! I'd never do that!"

"Sorcery killed my father!" the king roared. "Was that you? Did you have a part in that?"

He'd hit the nail on the head, he realised, as Merlin shrunk away from him, looking nothing like the confident ex-assassin he'd been in the other cell.

"Arthur, I was trying to save him, there was an amulet-"

"I trusted you!" Arthur replied, feeling tears well in his eyes. "I thought we were friends."

"We are!"

"How can we be if I'm constantly watching my back? How can we possibly be friends when I'm having to keep my guard up the whole time?"

"Magic saved your life, many times before now!" Merlin seemed to have finally snapped, though he still had that desperate sadness in his forget-me-not blue eyes. "The Questing Beast? Magic saved you! The Great Dragon? He's not really dead!"

Arthur eyed his manservant, or ex-manservant, suspiciously. "What?"

Merlin looked like he hadn't meant to say that. "I'm a dragonlord, as well as a warlock."

"Warlock?"

"I was born with magic." Merlin said. "I can't help who I am. I didn't choose this, I didn't decide my destiny. I'm destined to help you unite Albion, and I won't rest until that's achieved. I never, ever wanted, or want to hurt you. If you don't believe me, let me go. But I'll be back."

Arthur could only watch, ashamed of his actions, as Merlin left.


	7. Dusk Light

Merlin didn't know how far he went, how many twisting, dark corridors he went through, but no-one stopped him as he emerged into sunlight.

He looked around, the hazy dusk light casting long shadows from everything. The very same lake he and Arthur had once visited, looking for a picnic spot to take Gwen to, shimmered in the distance. Everywhere he looked were memories, as he turned back to the cavern he'd emerged from.

He eventually found his way back to Arthur. The king, usually confident, cheerful and a little arrogant, was curled up in the corner, tear tracks down his cheeks.

"Arthur?"

Arthur looked up. "Merlin..."

"I'm sorry, Arthur, truly."

"No," the king said, standing up. "I'm sorry. I acted harshly and unnecessarily cruelly. I hope you forgive me."

Merlin smiled as he stepped forward, and the king held out his hand. The warlock and the Once and Future King shook hands, a sign of their everlasting friendship.

"Thank you, Merlin."


	8. Morning Dew

Somehow, they made it out the back, to the clearing Merlin had found. Blinking in the rapidly darkening sky, they trudged through the grass towards the forest path.

By the time they reached it, it was too dark to consider going all the way home. They simply curled up at the base of a tree, cloak and jacket wrapped around them each to keep warm, and slept.

The morning was dewy, misty and cold, as they set off again in the direction of Camelot. Walking side by side, servant and master, king and warlock, brother and brother, they talked.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, Arthur."

"Merlin. Shut up." the king grinned. "I trust you."

Merlin smiled, looking into the distance. "And I you."

They reached Camelot as the sun was setting again. The people of the lower town seemed concerned for their king, but let him pass through the citadel with his servant unhindered. Merlin looked around, imagining how things could be without the magic ban. And Arthur imagined the same.


	9. Amhar

**Two years later**

Arthur stood by the window of his chambers, watching the events going on in the courtyard below. His Queen, Guinevere, his Court Sorcerer, Merlin, and his young son, Amhar, clinging to Guinevere's skirts.

"Amhar, look at this!"

Merlin sounded as excited as the young boy at whatever he was planning. He cupped his hands together, and when he opened them, various colours of bubble flew out and into the air around them.

Arthur chuckled, watching Amhar run around on tiny legs, chasing the bubbles, as Guinevere laughed. Merlin chuckled, pleased he could entertain the young prince.

He left his chambers, red shirt swishing behind him- it was too big, Merlin needed to fix that-, and went down to the courtyard. Merlin grinned as he saw him, crouching down to Amhar and whispering something to him.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, as Amhar came running towards him and clung to his leg.

"Daddy, Merlin says we're going to play a trick on you."

Arthur laughed, picking the prince up and going towards Merlin and Gwen. "Amhar here tells me you were planning a trick."

Merlin laughed. "Aaw, that ruins it."

Amhar simply giggled, burying his face in his father's chest. Arthur chuckled, ruffling his son's blonde hair. Gwen smiled at him.

"He's very interested in magic." she said, looking proud. Merlin grinned.

"Maybe he'll be a magic king."

Arthur smiled. "Maybe so."


	10. Crown Prince of Camelot

**So here we are; the final chapter. I hope you've enjoyed the story so far, and I'm sorry the chapters were so short. Thanks for reading all this way! :3**

* * *

"Amhar Pendragon, as you are now of age, I give you the title Crown Prince of Camelot."

The small crowd of nobles in the hall - furnished for a feast and celebration, and filled with the aura of happiness that usually came with events like this - cheered, Merlin among them. Gwen smiled at her son, now eighteen years old and every inch the worthy prince his father had been. The king himself grinned at Amhar, hugging him as he stood up.

"Mum, Sir Gwaine wanted to make a speech." a voice laughed, talking to Gwen. It belonged to Vivienne; the princess of Camelot, three years younger than Amhar, with dark hair like Guinevere's and blue eyes like Arthur's. Merlin had often joked about how much the young girl looked like him; he'd often helped the girl learn simple magic skills.

She stood with another girl, Kendra. This girl was also dark-haired, but had her mother Leslie's eyes. This was Merlin's daughter. The two girls were a matter of days apart in age, and as close as sisters.

Gwen laughed at her daughter's announcement. "Tell him not to drink anything before he makes it, then. Kendra, could you get your dad for me?"

Kendra grinned at her. "Of course." She ran off in the opposite direction to Vivienne, her hair flying behind her. Both girls were dressed simply, though Vivienne- to her disappointment - had been made to wear a dress for the evening. The sorcerer's daughter, however, was simply in breeches and a tunic.

Gwen smiled, watching them go. Twenty years ago, she'd never have guessed this could happen. Magic had been truly embraced once again in Camelot, shown clearly by the bubbles rising above the crowd, so reminiscent of the afternoon in the courtyard so many years ago.

**The End**


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